I want you leaning in close while the snow falls so I can keep you there.

I keep replaying your hand on the ribbon and planning a different kind of tying later.

Your mitten prints on the window are making me imagine leading them to the bed.

I want to catch your gaze across the room and make sure you remember to come home with me.

Watching you fold the card made me want to fold myself into your arms instead.

I keep thinking about your scarf falling over my shoulder and how I wouldn’t mind it staying.

That cheeky raise of your eyebrow while we decorate is the permission I’ve been waiting for.

I want your hand on my knee under the table and nowhere else to go for the night.

The way you feed me the first bite had me planning a slow, deliberate second helpings later.

I keep replaying your whisper over the music and plotting a quieter counterpoint.

Every time you unwrap a ribbon I picture peeling a shirt instead — slowly.

I want to press my palm to the small of your back when you come up behind me and not move.

Thinking about the pocket where you hid the note makes me want to hide you somewhere very private.

I keep imagining your fingers tucking hair behind my ear and never letting go.

Your sleepy voice saying my name after the toast is exactly the invite I need.

I want to steal your mitten and wear it while I kiss the back of your hand.

I want to trace the faint freckle on your cheek while you read me the card.

That little dance you did while wrapping gifts is why I’m smiling and why I’ll be insistent later.

Hold my hand in the car later and don't let go — I’ll reward you for it.

I keep thinking about the way your collar smells after you come in from the cold and it’s not subtle.

Seeing you reach for the top shelf made me want to slide my arms around your waist from behind.

I want to press my forehead to yours where your hairline smells like winter and yesterday.

Just the idea of you bending to plug in the lights has me planning a very small interruption.

Your mitten left on the heater is tempting; I want to warm my hands with yours.

If I don’t kiss you under that mistletoe soon I might start a very distracting stare.

Thinking about your breath on my ear while we hang the ornament is doing things to me.

I noticed your favorite mug in the sink and imagined holding it while you held me.

Watching you string lights made me want to drape you in something softer.

I want to unbutton your cuff and leave my thumb circling the vein on your wrist.

That quick brush of your lips when you handed me the present is what I’m counting on tonight.

I keep replaying how you slipped your mitten into mine and I want to keep that close.

The smell of pine made me think about how your hair smells after you run your hands through it.

Every time I pass the window with the lights I imagine tracing the back of your neck.

Your laugh at the carols is making me plan a later, quieter encore.

I want to pull you into the kitchen and steal the marshmallow from your cocoa with my mouth.

I keep picturing your scarf on the couch and wondering how it would feel against my neck.

You in that green sweater by the tree has been running through my head all morning.

You falling asleep with the playlist still on made me grateful in a simple way.

I felt full when you handed me the plate you made first.

I liked that you remembered to buy extra batteries and saved the evening.